Thanks to those of you sticking with this, and especially to those of you who have reviewed. This chapter gave me loads of trouble, but hopefully it shaped up ok. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated!

Chapter 11 - In which some people are idiots, but they aren't the ones who count.

Harry woke the morning after the Order of Merlin ceremony to Ron kissing him lazily along his neck, his freckled chest pressed flush against Harry's shoulder blades as Ron dragged his fingers gently along Harry's ribs, down his hip and thigh and back up again. He hummed appreciatively, stretching his neck so Ron could have better access, eyes still closed.

"M'rning," Ron's voice rumbled against his shoulder.

"Mmm," Harry replied, pressing himself more firmly against Ron.

Ron groaned, his lightly trailing fingers growing slightly more insistent.

"...Last night…" Ron breathed against Harry's ear, "...Merlin Harry…"

"Mmm," Harry affirmed, opening his eyes at last. "...for me too."

He turned to kiss Ron properly when the ward chimes rang through the air, causing them both to bolt upright in alarm.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, torn between being annoyed at the interruption and confusion over who would be over early on a Sunday morning.

"Not bloody late enough to be calling, nevermind entering," Ron growled, clearly not torn at all about how he felt about being interrupted.

Harry was already up, shuffling into the pajamas he hadn't bothered with the night before.

"Ron? Harry?"

"...Percy?" Ron muttered, incredulous. "Of all the…"

"We'll be down in a minute!" Harry called as he cracked the door open slightly. He turned back to Ron and snickered at his put out expression, "C'mon Ron." He tossed Ron his crumpled dress slacks as it was all he had available in the room.

Still grumbling, Ron dressed hastily and joined Harry as they trudged down the stairs to the kitchen, bewildered as they found Percy and…

'"Oliver? What…"

"Sorry for the intrusion," Percy cut him off, his tone clipped, "We needed to get here before… ah, thanks Ollie…"

Harry and Ron just looked at each other, perplexed. Percy and Oliver were both flitting along the perimeter of the kitchen, their wands out with occasional incantations muttered between them.

"The wards stop it from going anywhere else in the house," Percy said to Oliver, "but best check the front door anyway."

"Will one of you please explain what the bloody hell you're doing here at… NINE THIRTY in the morning? Shit, it's way later than I thought. I need to get ready for work…"

"You aren't going in today," Percy replied, flourishing his wand in time with Oliver over the hearth. "That should do it."

"Again, what the bloody…"

"You made the front page," Oliver responded, turning to face them at last, apparently finished with his spell work.

Harry and Ron just stared at him, bewildered.

"Um," Harry said at last, "That's not exactly… I mean, I sort of assumed we would…?"

Percy let out a long sigh and nodded to Oliver, who produced a copy of the Daily Prophet and dropped it on the dining table in front of Harry and Ron. Harry had to suppress a snicker. It was about bloody time he shared the cover with someone, and even better, he was sharing it rather intimately with the best looking bloke in the building.

Ron let out a low whistle as he watched his own image pull Harry's towards himself and kiss him heatedly. He hadn't remembered grabbing Harry's arse while he'd done it but… there it was.

"As soon as you two let loose last night, we knew we'd have to scramble this morning," Oliver was saying, "I had weeks to prep everything, not to mention the Puddlemere press team…"

"What are you talking about?!" Ron roared, apparently at his breaking point. "Will one of you please explain what the bloody hell is actually going on?"

Before anyone could respond, the fireplace roared to life and Lee Jordan's head appeared.

"Percy? We need you at the shop. He's going to get himself arrested…"

Percy took a steadying breath, taking his glasses off and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Go," Oliver told him "We're good here."

"Thanks. I'll be there in a sec Lee. Call Angelina next please?"

Before Ron could lose his mind, Percy had stepped back into the floo, shouted "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," and disappeared.

"Sit," Oliver instructed, summoning mugs to the table. "Do you drink tea or coffee in the mornings?"

"Coffee," Harry responded, sitting down slowly, as instructed, his brow furrowed.

Ron was still standing, his body tense. Harry reached up and took his hand, tugging gently for him to sit down as well.

Oliver worked silently, sliding the mugs of coffee over to them before taking a seat himself.

"I'm sorry," he said at last, "We didn't mean to bombard you. I assumed you'd know what you were in for, but it would appear not."

Harry and Ron just glanced from one another and back to Oliver.

"Look, you've just made yourselves the biggest piece of gossip news Wizarding Britain has had in decades. It was bound to happen eventually and ninety nine percent of the reaction will be harmless, but you have to take certain precautions and…"

"Wait… what are you on about Oliver?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. "We snogged at a ministry function. The 'Chosen One' is a homo... whoopie! What's the panic about? I've had my name splashed across headlines for years for shit way more serious than this, it's nothing new."

Oliver winced. "I know that mate."

"But?" Ron prompted, his hand resting firmly on Harry's knee beneath the table.

"But you haven't ever done anything socially questionable before."

"Socially… questionable..." Harry's face became stoney even as Ron's grip on his knee tightened.

"Look, it will blow over in a couple weeks. It did for me. You two are just more high profile… a lot more high profile. In the meantime we need to make sure all your mail is scanned for safety, and…"

"Scanned for safety?" Ron cut in, surprised. "Is that…"

"I got a few cursed Howlers," Oliver supplied, "Trust me, it's worth the hassle of the screenings. You'll get encouragement too, a lot of it actually, but there are still some people out there that will feel the need to tell you you're a disgrace to the planet. It's best to just let the charms sort those ones out too."

Harry's jaw was set, his expression cloudy. Ron didn't need to look at him to sense the danger as the repercussions categorized themselves neatly in Harry's head.

"We need to get Hermione's parents' house secured. And The Burrow…"

"Harry…"

"Is Ginny at home? The press will target her quickly so we need her to stay put…"

"...Harry…"

" and Hermione's parents are muggles. Someone needs to extend the wards to include their mail…"

"Harry!"

Harry turned to look at Ron, who was now gripping Harry by the shoulder firmly.

"Harry," he repeated, still firm, but more gently this time. "It's just ignorant people. It's not Voldemort, ok? Like Oliver said, it will blow over in a couple weeks."

"Arthur went over to the Granger's this morning," Oliver said uncertainly, his eyes flicking back and forth between Harry and Ron. "He's sorting their wards out and The Burrow is fine. Ginny can lay low there for a bit…" he trailed off as Harry gave a curt nod.

They all jumped as the fireplace roared to life, erupting brighter than usual as a tangle of limbs spun into the room amidst a stream of swearing.

"George! If you don't. Hold. STILL...!"

"NO ONE CALLS MY BROTHER THAT EXCEPT ME! NO ONE!"

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE WOULD SOMEONE PLEASE GRAB HIM!"

Oliver moved quickly, Ron (and admittedly Harry as well) too stunned by Percy swearing to react at first.

"THEY'VE NO RIGHT!" George roared, struggling against Percy until Oliver managed to overcome him and pull him into a partial headlock. "NO RIGHT TO COME INTO MY SHOP, INSULTING MY FAMILY!"

"GEORGE!" Ron bellowed, finally catching up to the situation and rising to face off with the still struggling George. "OI! GET A GRIP!"

"You weren't there," George growled, but he at least stopped struggling against Oliver, "You don't know what they were saying…"

"I have some pretty good guesses," Ron said evenly. "And it doesn't mean shite George. What'd they call me? A faggot shirt lifter? So I'm a faggot. Big fucking deal. Pull it together, alright?"

George went silent, but remained tense enough that Oliver kept a firm grip on him. Ron held his gaze, willing him to calm down.

"This isn't about what they're calling me George, and you know it. So don't you dare go looking for a fight on my account, got it?"

George looked away, grinding his teeth. There was a long silence while George mastered himself, Oliver's grip slowly unwinding until at last George sat down heavily at the table.

"Is the shop alright?" Ron asked, once he was convinced George had calmed down.

George nodded. "Nothing a little scourgify can't fix. Might need to suspend owl service for a couple weeks though. Not sure some of the product will make it through the screening charms as 'safe' if we're being honest."

Ron grimaced but said nothing as he nodded.

"This it then?" George asked, reaching for The Daily Prophet. He let out a whistle, just as Ron had. "Really went for it there, didn't you? Good on you."

Ron couldn't help his smug grin, only to have it wiped from his face when he turned to look at Harry. Harry was not smiling.

"Harry…?"

"Thanks for your help Oliver, Percy. I didn't even know you could spell the mail from getting in. You'll have to teach me. If you'll excuse me…"

Harry rose mechanically from the table, his movements stiff as he exited the kitchen.

"Shit," Ron muttered. He sat quietly for a moment before pounding his fist into the table abruptly, making his brothers and Oliver jump. "Shit." he repeated. "I need you to tell me right now if there is anything else I need to know about this. Is it just ordinary, homophobic, hate mail garbage? Or is it somehow worse than that?"

"Mostly it's just that Ron, and genuinely, not a lot of it. You might want to lay low for a few weeks as the sight of you in public, especially together, is going to get the press all riled up again, but that's just because it's you two," Oliver replied. "It may drag on a little longer than it did for me, but it's just annoying more than anything else. They may harass Ginny and Hermione a bit as well, but those two can hold their own against the press just fine."

"The only reason we had to act so fast this morning was the timing," Percy added. "Had we known you were going to go public last night, we could have set everything up ahead of time. That's what we did for Oliver."

"Well it wasn't planned," Ron bit out angrily. "And it was actually pretty fucking perfect until this morning." He signed and scrubbed his face with his hands. "I need to go talk to Harry..."

"Of course. Do you mind if George and I hang here for a bit? Oliver needs to get to work but…"

"Yeah," Ron waved him off. "Just stay downstairs. And if anything explodes just… just leave it."

Percy gave Ron a rather startled look but George shoo'd Ron away.

"I'll explain, go sort out your lover boy."

Ron took the stairs slowly, needing to get himself under control before he attempted to do the same for Harry. When he finally entered the room, Harry was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing the window with his back to the door.

"Harry?"

Harry didn't move, but Ron heard his sigh and gingerly took a seat next to him. They sat in silence for awhile, Ron unsure what to say, and Harry needing the time to get his thoughts together in a more orderly fashion.

"I thought it was too perfect. Should have known really." Harry said at last. Ron stayed silent at this, not trusting himself to speak. "I really thought… doesn't matter what I thought I guess. I just… it felt so… good. So right. And now…"

"And now what?" Ron demanded, failing to hide the hurt in his voice. "Why does it have to be different now? Just because a few stupid people are still living in the dark ages?"

Harry finally turned to look at Ron properly and winced. Ron just looked at him, obviously hurt despite the flashes of anger in his eyes.

"Harry," Ron began, but quickly closed his mouth as he questioned whether he could proceed without shouting. He didn't want to row right now, not after what had been one of the best evenings of his life to date. Not after he'd woken up this morning in a haze of bliss.

"'M sorry," Harry said quietly. "It's not that I don't think it was worth it."

"You've a funny way of showing it," Ron bit out.

Harry flinched, but he reached over and took Ron's hand in his own, taking a deep breath.

"I know. I'm sorry. I got caught up thinking you could be at risk. That you could get hurt because of me… again. I'm sorry, I know that's… that it's old news really, and not the same kind of threat it used to be. But it's always in the back of my mind and I'm just so… angry. I'm angry that anyone would want to try and ruin this for us. I…"

"No one's at risk here Harry," Ron interrupted. "Worst case scenario is some public humiliation, which I'm plenty familiar with and frankly, I am never going to be embarrassed about being with you. I mean, did you see us? I was snogging the fittest bloke there! We looked damn good…"

Harry snickered, looking up at Ron, grateful that somehow, Ron could still manage to break the tension.

"It's really not that serious, Harry. Oliver said we'd even get lots of nice mail."

Harry nodded. "I just panicked. I'm sorry."

"Don't let it ruin a great night, ok? It… it was a great night, yeah?"

"Top 3," Harry agreed promptly.

Ron arched an eyebrow at Harry curiously. "What are the other two?"

Harry instantly flushed and Ron grinned. It would never get old…

"First," Harry began, surprising Ron. He hadn't actually expected him to answer. "The night we got together. Second, the erm… the first time we… yeah."

Ron felt his own blush at that, both at the memory and the fact that apparently, the night he defeated Voldemort didn't even rank on Harry's top 3 list. Though in fairness, the night Harry defeated Voldemort was also the night that he'd died, along with others.

"You've given this a lot of thought then," he said at last.

Harry shrugged. "Pretty easy list to make."

"I suppose." They lapsed into comfortable silence, Ron recognizing the measured breathing from Harry, drilled into him by Thelma. Ron really needed to remember to send her the world's largest basket of chocolate.

"My list is the same by the way," Ron broke the silence once he was confident Harry was breathing steadily without having to concentrate. "Though I have an honourable mention."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm. I wasn't awake for it, otherwise it may have earned an actual slot. But I think I have to include the night I, how did you put it? ...sprawled across you? Effectively turning you gay."

Harry laughed, shoving Ron roughly enough to dislodge him momentarily from his seat on the bed.

"Oi! I thought it was your earring that turned me gay?"

"Ah, too true. Well, can you imagine if I'd had the earring when I did the sprawling?" he leered at Harry, who was making a valiant effort not to laugh, an effort that failed moments later when Ron dramatically swooped his hair back to show off the earring, which was entirely unnecessary with his new haircut.

"You're such a git..."

"Perhaps. But…"

"...I love you."

Ron jerked back in surprise at the sudden proclamation, staring at Harry.

Ron and Harry had loved each other for years, but saying so was not something you did as two 14 year old boys, and besides that, loving each other as mates and brothers and soldiers… and lovers... those were all very different things.

The funny thing was, Ron knew Harry loved him. He'd known for ages really, and he had sort of gotten to the point where he thought maybe it just wasn't going to get said. I mean, how much more obvious could it be? Did he really need to hear it?

It turned out that yes, yes he did.

Harry met Ron's eyes and the temperature of the room suddenly began to ratchet up by degrees. Ron suddenly forgot about the mail. Forgot that Harry was upset. Forgot that two of his brothers were downstairs. He had Harry flat on the bed and pinned beneath him in less time than it took to take his next breath.

"You mean that?" he panted between the kisses he was currently ravaging across Harry's face and neck.

Harry pressed a hand against Ron's chest and pushed firmly, forcing Ron to let up and look down properly at him.

"I love you," Harry repeated, and just how much he meant it was clear on his face.

"I love you too. I've… bloody hell, I've loved you for so long Harry."

Harry fisted Ron's shirt and brought him back down to continue their frantic kissing, which was suddenly devoid of their now well developed finesse, yet somehow hotter for it.

"Charm the door," Ron groaned, fumbling to remove Harry's clothes as quickly as he could.

"I don't care if they hear," Harry replied, earning a breathy laugh from Ron, who had finally succeeded in getting Harry undressed and was working on his own shirt.

"This whole thing turn you into a bit of an exhibitionist then?"

Harry rolled his eyes and twisted around for the nightstand, returning with the lube which he handed to Ron and his wand which he aimed at the door and cast a silencing charm.

"Happy?"

"Exceedingly," Ron responded.

"You should move in," Harry said, his breath catching on the last syllable as Ron chose that moment to return to the task at hand.

Ron paused, earning a frustrated grunt from Harry.

"Huh?"

"Here. You should move your stuff in here… should be our room, not just mine… for fuck's sake, can we talk about this later?"

Ron grinned, pinning Harry's insistent hips down with both hands. "You're the one who brought it up…"

"Move in. Properly. Our room."

"Ok."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"I love you."

"I love you."

When Harry had suggested they offer to let their friends move into Grimmauld Place with them, Ron had thought it was a brilliant idea. He hadn't thought much about it beyond having their mates around, which sounded like fun as far as he was concerned.

At the moment however, the realities of the arrangement were dawning on him. They had only had housemates for a few hours, Dean hadn't even arrived yet, and Ron found himself skulking along the third floor corridor in an attempt to avoid the almighty row going on downstairs between his mother and sister. Evidently, two of Molly's children living under the same roof warranted personal appearances on a more frequent basis.

The current issue being discussed, rather loudly, in the downstairs sitting room, was Ginny's post Hogwarts aspirations. Ginny and Molly did not see eye to eye on Ginny's current approach. Molly wasn't opposed to Ginny setting her sights on a professional quidditch career and had been generally supportive of the idea on the whole, but Ginny's lack of any sort of back up plan was a slight point of contention.

In a shocking turn of events, Ron actually agreed with his mother in this instance, but he wasn't going to tell Ginny that. And anyway, this wasn't really about Ginny's career aspirations. The baby was flying the nest. He didn't really know how to navigate that topic with his mother, and that was how he found himself skulking in an attempt to avoid having to take sides.

"Not too keen on the fireworks going off downstairs then?"

Ron jumped and turned to find Hermione, her hair pulled back and her wand in hand as she levitated an assortment of boxes behind her. He smiled down at her, relieved to have something to do other than blatantly avoid his family members as he opened the door to Hermione's room for her with a shrug.

"Ta," she said, maneuvering the levitated boxes to a corner of half unpacked books before finally looking back up at him.

"That the last of your mobile library or do we need to bring in reinforcements?" he teased, knowing full well that Hermione had at least half a dozen boxes of books still at her parent's house.

"Hardy har," she replied, rolling her eyes and taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "I don't need to bring all of them anyway. There's a whole library here to get through! Not to mention I'll be getting access to the Ministry library once my apprenticeship starts."

Ron grinned at that. Hermione had been over the moon when she found out that access to the ministry's libraries was one of the benefits of her placement within the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Ron still wasn't entirely clear what the apprenticeship was exactly, but Hermione was thrilled about it and that was good enough for him.

Ron sat down at the small desk opposite Hermione's bed, continuing to grin at her before Hermione cleared her throat and looked away, her cheeks pinking ever so slightly.

Ron winced. He had been painstakingly re-building his friendship with Hermione over owls for the past 5 months as best he could manage. In truth, they'd probably discussed far more intimate things over owls than they ever had in person while at Hogwarts together. While with their friends, or even just with Harry, there was nearly no discernable difference between the way they were now and they way they'd been before. The trouble was, there had been very few opportunities since his coming out in December for the two of them to be alone together, and it was impossible to ignore the shadow of awkwardness without the buffer of parchment or other people.

"So," Ron tried, dutifully ignoring the sudden tension.

"So…" Hermione echoed him, still not looking directly at him.

"The shop's doing well."

"I snogged Anthony Goldstein."

Ron blinked, not quite sure he'd actually understood Hermione properly, as they'd both spoken at the same time, but there was no mistaking her blush now.

"Ok?" he said uncertainly, baffled by this new territory.

"Yeah," Hermione said, finally looking up at Ron and biting her lip nervously. "I mean. Yeah. It was… umm."

Ron's lip twitched into a small smirk, and Hermione paused as she bit her lip again. After a moment, she began to snicker and Ron quickly followed suit until the pair of them were giggling like a pair of 12 year olds. Ron stood up from the desk chair and joined Hermione on the bed, beaming at her in both amusement from their ridiculous giggle fest, as well as the sheer relief that they could laugh together like this, just the two of them.

"So," Ron finally prompted, settling his back against her headboard, more comfortable than he'd been around Hermione in what felt like years. "Anything I need to know? I don't need to beat him up do I?"

"Oh please. I could handle Anthony just fine if required," Hermione responded primly, backing up further onto the bed and leaning against the wall, shoving playfully at Ron's legs until he finally folded them to make room for hers. "It's not anything serious. Just… you know."

Ron wasn't sure he did know, but that didn't seem all that important at the moment, so he just nodded.

"I blame Ginny actually. She kept going on and on about how my last year at Hogwarts shouldn't be all doldrums just because you and Harry weren't there to nearly get me killed every few months or so."

"Oi! How am I in the category of nearly getting you killed? I thought you and I were a team against the hazards of being Harry's mates!"

"Alright," Hermione said with a laugh, "I'll give you that. Still. It was… fun."

Ron snorted at this. "Oh really? You truly are the brightest witch at Hogwarts with revelations like 'snogging is fun' aren't you?!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "For goodness' sakes Ron. I regret even bringing it up!"

"Oh c'mon. You knew I'd take the piss no matter what you said…"

"True. But…" she paused here, suddenly uncomfortable again. "I… I want us to be able to talk about this stuff."

Ron frowned slightly, confused. "It's not like we ever did before."

Hermione laughed at this and kicked his knee with her foot. "Yeah and look where that got us!"

"Well that's a point I suppose..."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment before a sharp 'Ginerva!' made its way all the way to the third floor, followed by the sharp slamming of a door. Ron let out a long sigh.

"So," Hermione said, ignoring the storm outside her room. "How are you and Harry?"

"Things are good," Ron replied. "Harry gets bored quite a bit but he's trying to keep busy. Now that he's, ya know, healthier and stuff he gets a bit stir crazy…"

"That's not what I meant," Hermione interrupted. "I know how you are individually- we were writing just about every other day. I meant how are you and Harry."

"Oh. Um, great. Things are… things are really great." Ron cursed himself as he felt his blush creeping its way up his neck.

"Mmm. Real descriptive Ron."

"Well… ya know," Ron waved his arms about helplessly. "Emotional range of a teaspoon, I believe it was?"

Hermione snickered slightly and shook her head. "Please. We both know I'd never been more wrong in my life when I made that assessment."

Ron's head snapped up in surprise but he refrained from comment.

"I assume there's a bit more than snogging going on…" she prompted, causing Ron's mouth to drop open as he gaped at her.

"Hermione!"

"What? Did you think no one was going to realize you're old room has been vacated?" she said slyly.

Ron dropped his forehead to his knees to hide his face, which was now as Weasley red as it could get.

"That doesn't mean I was expecting to get interrogated about it," he mumbled.

Hermione laughed, the sound light and carefree, and Ron suddenly found that he'd be willing to go through this bit of embarrassment any time if it meant Hermione would continue to laugh like this, like she did before horcruxes and half blood princes, before death eaters and Dumbledore's Army.

"Fine," she said finally, "be a prude and don't share. I just want you to know that I'm genuinely so happy for the two of you," her voice suddenly became more serious. "Truly Ron. If it had to be anyone else, I'm glad it's Harry."

Ron finally looked back up at her, at the sincerity in her eyes.

"I love him."

He wasn't sure why he felt he needed to say it, especially to Hermione, and hoped desperately that it wouldn't hurt her. But it was the truth, and he wanted her to know that he wanted to share these things with her, after everything they'd been through.

Hermione smiled softly at him and reached over to put her hand over his where it was resting on his knees.

"I know," she said simply.

Ron nodded. Of course she knew. She bloody well knew everything.

"I told him as much for the first time last weekend. He… he said it first. And then he asked me to move in with him properly… not that I was ever sleeping in my own room, but still." Hermione squeezed his hand and he looked up at her, still blushing, but less furiously than before. "And Hermione…" She tilted her head, waiting. "If you think snogging is fun, just wait 'til you get around to shagging..."

Hermione threw her head back and laughed again, Ron joining her, hoping for everything he was worth that no matter how much their lives changed, he would always be able to sit with Hermione and laugh like this.

There was a soft knock at the door then, and Hermione called, "it's open!"

"Not interrupting anything am I," Ginny asked, peering into the room.

"Nope, come on in," Ron gestured for her to enter.

Ginny flopped onto the mattress, which was becoming increasingly crowded, and let out a long sigh.

"Rough day Gin?" Ron asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't. I know you both probably think I'm just as crazy as mum does. I get it… just don't tell her that."

"We don't think you're crazy Ginny," Hermione offered kindly. "I just think…"

"You're going to make a team Ginny," Ron interrupted. He didn't know why, but despite agreeing with his mother that Ginny really should have a back up plan, he felt now wasn't the time to say so.

"Well I haven't yet."

"So what?" Ron challenged. "You're brilliant. Everyone knows it. You're going to get offered a contract. Any team would be daft not to sign you on."

Ginny stared at Ron for a moment before her gaze slid to Hermione's, a knowing look passing between them.

"What?" Ron asked, suddenly self conscious. "What'd I say?"

Ginny just shook her head as a small smirk formed on her lips while Hermione began to absently play with the hemline of her t shirt, not looking up at Ron.

"It's…" Ginny struggled to find her words. "Don't take this the wrong way Ron, ok? It's just that, you're a lot… nicer... since you came out."

"I'm what?"

"Nicer. You're just more nice. Don't get all bent out of shape over it."

"What do you mean though? I've always been plenty nice!"

Hermione and Ginny exchanged glances again and Ron crossed his arms and huffed.

"Fine," he said, "Lay it on me…"

Ginny snorted and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"You just… you weren't mean like Draco or anything," Hermione tried to explain, "but in hindsight, I think you were just incredibly tense all the time. It's different now. You're more open."

Ron sighed, relaxing into the headboard and closing his eyes for a moment, deciding how to respond.

"I reckon that's a good way to put it."

Ginny and Hermione began to giggle and before long were both laughing, partly at his expense, he knew, but Ron let the sound wash over him, content.

As summers went, it was probably Ron's favorite to date. It felt rather like one long party, with their friends all gathering up in the evenings to chat or play games, and on a couple of occasions get themselves completely pissed.

While Ron himself worked most days, the rest of their new housemates really didn't have anywhere to be and were revelling in their new freedom- basking in the tiny bubble of independence before they had any real adult responsibilities.

It was good for Harry. Having so many people around made it hard for him to play the recluse, which would have been all too easy given he really couldn't go out much without inciting a press riot at the minute. Ron actually had some difficulty at work at first, but after a week of nearly clocking photographers in order to get them to clear away from the shop entrance to allow customers through, George had told Ron not to bother and instead stepped just outside the door and proceeded to cast some of the most intensely powerful wards and charms Ron had ever seen from his brother. When George had come back inside, Ron had gaped at him, impressed, but also genuinely shocked by the display of sheer power.

George had smirked at him, though Ron knew him well enough to see the mixture of exhaustion behind the smug expression, so he hadn't asked just when and how George had developed the ability to ward an entire block in one go.

As June merged into July, the Gryffindors of Grimmauld Place managed to establish a fairly organized way of living, the adjustments only slight given they'd all lived together before, albeit without the added responsibility of having to cook and clean for themselves. Kreacher was a major help in that area though, so there were never any real rows over whose turn it was to sort the dishes and the like.

The moment it really sunk in that this was indeed different than their Hogwarts days, was when Hermione had come downstairs one morning to find a young woman she didn't recognize seated at the dining table with Seamus, and a very confunded and embarrassed looking Harry.

In hindsight, they probably should have discussed what the protocol ought to be if one of them wanted to have a, erm, guest over for the night, but it hadn't occurred to any of them until now.

"What the bloody hell Seamus!" Harry demanded, once the young lady had been escorted to the floo following her breakfast.

"What?" Seamus asked, genuinely confused at the outburst.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, deciding it was probably better to keep silent as she began to slather butter onto her toast, not looking at Seamus or Harry.

Before Harry could reply, Dean appeared, asking what the ruckus was about as he swiped a piece of toast from Hermione's plate, earning a scowl.

"Yeah seriously," Ginny added, entering the kitchen with a sleepy looking Neville trailing in behind her.

Harry gave Seamus an exasperated look and gestured to the various occupants of the kitchen, all of them dressed in either pajamas or dressing gowns.

"What're yeh on about?"

"Don't you think the rest of us might appreciate a bit of warning if there's going to be a stranger in our kitchen on any given morning? Maybe have a chance to put some clothes on?"

Dean turned to look at Seamus with a smirk. "I thought you were just staying for 'one more round' mate."

Seamus grinned. "Yeah well. One more round at the pub, then a round 'tween the sheets…"

"Oh please," Ginny cut him off, wrinkling her nose, as she accepted a steaming mug of tea from Kreacher. "Like you know what you're doing 'tween the sheets'," she scoffed, imitating his accent.

"I beg your pardon?! I happen to be a brilliant lover. And I'm more 'an willing to show yeh…"

"This is totally beside the point!" Harry exclaimed, wishing he could unhear Seamus' last statement.

"Oh pipe down Harry. What's the big deal," Semaus defended himself. "It's not like any of us prance around the house in our pants!"

At that moment, a bleary eyed Ron entered the kitchen, clad in nothing more than a pair of pants and a single sock. Harry clapped one hand over his eyes and gestured helplessly at his boyfriend with the other. Ginny snorted into her tea while Neville let out a small giggle that he quickly tried to turn into a cough.

"Look," Hermione intervened, "I do think it's probably fair we set some mutual ground rules on having any guests over."

"I agree," Harry said quickly.

"Oh sure," Seamus said with an eye roll. "Says the only one amongst us sharing his room… and occasionally forgetting to put up a bloody silencing charm…!"

"Oi!" Harry's face suddenly went crimson, "We forgot one time and we have apologized basically every day since!"

"Doesn't matter mate," Neville said somberly, "there are things a man simply cannot unhear."

Dean raised his mug to Neville in solidarity before the pair of them erupted into laughter.

"We will forever give you shit about it mate," Seamus smirked. "Especially since we all know Ron can cast the strongest silencing charm of us all."

"I don't ca… wait," Harry paused, "Ron has the best silencing charms?"

"Course," Neville replied. "He learned how to cast them before any of us so he could start doing them for you when the…" Neville trailed off, noticing Hermione shaking her head.

"When the what?" Harry prompted, eyeing Hermione.

"Umm. When the nightmares started to be a thing. You… you didn't know?"

Harry blinked and looked over at Ron, who was still oblivious to the conversation as he tried to work out how to pour his coffee.

"Just when I think you two can't get any more soppy," Seamus said with an eye roll. "He's been silencing your bed for you since about second year mate. Didn't want you to be embarrassed if you woke up screaming and the like, so he worked out a way to keep the charm contained so it included both of your beds. He could hear you but none of us could, which is why we know he's a pro at them considering I still don't know how he managed to work that out. But besides all that you should really remember silencing charms if you then want to make rules about who is allowed to shag!"

"I don't care who you shag or when! I'm just saying a little warning would be good!"

Ron finally seemed to have joined them in the land of wakefulness and was looking around the room in confusion as he took a seat next to Harry.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Seamus had a bird over last night. Harry is bent out of shape because she was at the breakfast table and he's apparently concerned for your dignity," Dean summarised.

Ron blinked, looking around the table at each of them before finally looking at Harry and asking, "huh?"

Harry sighed. "I just think we should have some way of notifying the rest of the house if there is going to be a guest at the breakfast table. That's all."

Ron suddenly looked alarmed, finally having caught up with the conversation. "Ginny's not having anyone over!"

The room went very quiet, as the occupants suddenly found their tea and coffee the most fascinating thing on the planet. All except the two Weasleys…

"Excuse me?" Ginny said, the false calm in her voice fooling no one.

Ron swallowed. "I just mean… I don't think… what I meant is…"

Ginny was smirking at her brother as he tried to backpedal, but gave no indication she was going to help him dig his way out of this.

"What you meant," she cut off his spluttering, "is that it's perfectly acceptable for you to shag my ex-boyfriend one floor below me, but I can't bring anyone over. Is that what you meant?"

Seamus let out a low whistle, as Harry stared up at the ceiling, partly hoping it would crash down on him.

Ron sat very still for a moment before saying, very carefully, "How about if anyone has a guest over, they just charm the door handles to glow when you touch them. Sort of like our DA Galleons. That way when we exit a room, we'll know someone we don't know could be on the other side. And… maybe if the guest happens to be one of yours Ginny, you add something to the charm? Change the colour or something? That way I'll know I can just jump out the window instead..."

"A very good suggestion Ron," Hermione swooped in.

She knew Ginny didn't mean anything malicious with her dig, but her loyalty would always lie with Ron and Harry, even when they were giant prats. And in this case, she didn't think Ginny, or anyone else really, appreciated just how uncomfortable Harry was with his past relationship with Ginny and the potential family drama he was inciting by now dating her brother.

"So that's settled," Neville agreed. "And for Merlin's sake Ron, if it does happen, put some trousers on before you come downstairs. I don't need any girl daft enough to come home with me to see you strutting around like something out of Quidditch Unrobed."

Ron wrinkled his nose, confused, but before he could determine what Neville meant by that, an owl flew in and landed gracefully in front of Ginny.

The room suddenly went silent again as Ginny stared at the bird, and the rather thick looking parchment attached to it. She looked up nervously, her eyes finding Ron's, who gave her an encouraging smile.

As the weeks had gone by, the high hopes Ginny had had of being contracted to a professional league team had started to fade. Most teams started their training camps in the fall, but many facilitated summer camps for their rookies.

The Falmouth Falcons' rookie camp had started last week. Ginny hadn't said a word, but they all knew the Falcon's had been one of the teams most interested in her during the Hogwarts season.

Hands trembling slightly, Ginny retrieved the letter, not daring to look at anyone once she saw the seal. There was one team Ginny had wanted to be on more than any other, but their scouts had never been too proactive with her. She knew they'd seen her play, but she had long ago buried the idea that they were really interested. They had some of the strongest chasers in the league after all, so it wasn't likely they needed another.

Stealing herself, and ignoring the fact that everyone was staring at her, Ginny ripped the letter open and began to read. With a yelp, she leapt up from the table, mouth open as she continued to read.

"Holy shit!"

"What?! What's it say Gin?" Ron had stood up too, knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table.

Ginny looked up, her face beaming with pride and genuine surprise as she held up the letter.

"The Harpies! The HARPIES Ron! I'm in! Holy mother of Merlin, I'm in!"

Ron let out a mangled 'whoop!' and jumped up onto the table to get across it to his sister, tackling her into a bear hug as their friends suddenly exploded into celebration around them.

"Ginny! This is incredible! YOU are INCREDIBLE! The Harpies!?" Ron shouted.

"I can't believe this!"

"Well done Ginny!"

"Congratulations!"

"We're celebrating!" Ron announced amidst the growing clamor, "What do you reckon Gin? Pick up match at the burrow and then head out to a pub? My treat!"

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